Illness Fic
by Shannon Holmes
Summary: A rather belated entry into Kari Kenobi's illness contest


Author's Note: Wow! This took a hella long time. I hope that Kari will still consider it. Having a job really, really sucks! Well I hope that whoever reads this enjoys it. There is more to come very, very soon. Shannon Holmes www.geocities.com/sherlock_holmes_1881 P.S. If anyone can think of a title that would be nifty. Just throw it into a review. Thanks!  
  
I had woken up considerably later than usual and was very surprised to not see Holmes in the sitting room. I assumed that he was still sleeping. I had turned in rather late myself and he had still not come back to our lodgings from whatever errand he had left on.  
  
  
  
As the day wore on and I finished lunch, I began to wonder if he had even come back when I heard that horrible coughing coming from behind Holmes's closed door. My doctor's instincts were immediately aroused. I quickly grabbed my medical and moved to stand by Holmes's door.  
  
"Holmes? Holmes, are you alright?" I asked, knocking on the door as I did so. More coughing was all that greeted me.  
  
  
  
"Holmes?" This time I tried the knob and, finding it unlocked, I slowly pushed open the door.  
  
I was not comforted by the sight that greeted me. Holmes lay curled up on his side in the middle of his bed. He was shivering uncontrollably, yet sweet covered his brow and drenched his clothing. I was further astonished to note that he had not even got into his night clothes, he was even wearing his greatcoat. I rushed over to his side and climbed upon the bed. I gently rolled him over onto his back, an action which caused him to go into another coughing fit.   
  
  
  
"Holmes…"  
  
  
  
I laid my hand on his forehead and was absolutely startled by the heat. I shook him, knowing that I would need to wake him up.  
  
  
  
"Holmes, come on now, wake up!" I shook him a little harder and was rewarded for my efforts by him opening his eyes ever so slowly.  
  
"What is it, Watson?" he asked groggily, before he started coughing again.  
  
"Holmes, you're sick."  
  
"Nonsense, that only thing possibly wrong with me is the fact that I am rather tired."  
  
"That's what's nonsense!" I replied. "You're burning up," I pulled my thermometer from my bag. "Just hold still and allow me to take your temperature."   
  
"Fine," he said as he lay back against the pillows. While I was glad that he was cooperating, I was very worried. Sherlock Holmes is a very masterful man and once he makes his mind up on a matter it is almost impossible for it to be changed. Not only that, but Holmes almost never let me examine him. Shaking my head, I had him open his mouth and I placed the thermometer under his tongue. After waiting the prescribed amount of time, I removed the tool from his mouth and read the number.  
  
"Good Lord! Holmes you have a fever of nearly 39 degrees!"  
  
He stared blankly at me before breaking into another fit of coughing, this one longer than the previous two that I had overheard. I helped him lean forward and rubbed his back.  
  
  
  
"It's all right, Holmes. Just breathe."  
  
  
  
"What do you think…I'm trying to do?" this was said amongst much coughing and wheezing. He finally managed to stop and he fell back wearily against the pillows.  
  
"No, come one, Holmes, lean up. I need you to stay propped up a bit." I tried to pull him forward and fix his pillows, but he stopped me with a look.  
  
"I am perfectly fine, Doctor. I may have a slight cough, but I'm sure it will be gone by tomorrow. Now, kindly remove yourself from room and let me be."  
  
"Holmes, this is absolutely ridiculous! You are behaving like a child!"  
  
"Leave me, Watson."  
  
"Fine! Sit in here and rot for all I care!" So saying I picked up my bag and stormed out of his room, slamming the door shut behind me.  
  
I heard nothing of Holmes the rest of the day, except for his occasional coughing which had seemed to increase in occurrence and duration. I remained rather angry with him, even as I got ready to retire for the evening. I sat up in my bed for several hours thinking about Holmes and how childish he was behaving, before finally falling into a deep sleep. I was awakened in the very early hours of the morning, by a terrible screaming emanating from Holmes' room. I jumped out of my bed and rushed into the sitting room. So startled was I, that I completely forgot to put on my slippers or my dressing gown. I met Mrs. Hudson at the door to Holmes' room.  
  
"Dr. Watson, whatever is the matter with Mr. Holmes?" she asked, smoothing the hair back from her face.  
  
"I don't know, Mrs. Hudson. I honestly do not know." 


End file.
